The Unbearable Lightness of Fleur Delacour
by Heather Sinclair
Summary: The Magical world has been exposed. War is coming and Harry is trapped in the middle. Harry/Fleur
1. The Portkey

The Unbearable Lightness

of

Fleur Delacour

by

Heather Goblet of Fire - AU at the end of the Third Task of the TWT

_**Pairings: **_Harry/Fleur

**Rating: R** requires the presence of a Parent or Guardian  
This story is specifically designed to be viewed by adults and therefore may be unsuitable for minors under 17. This story contains one or more of the following**: graphic violence, explicit sexual activity, **or

**crude indecent language.**

_**Disclaimer: **_This story, and any content relating to the Harry Potter franchise is not authorized by J.K. Rowling, or Scholastic Press. I own my computer ...

**Read** the story in the author's intended format at

Yahoo Group. See Profile for link.

_**Fonts: **_**This story is best viewed with the following fonts: **"Harry P", and "Lumos". They can be found at Mugglenet in the downloads section. The story is written in "Garamond"

**_Author's Note_: I'm trying for something original here if you see any glaring clichés please let me know. This story is meant as a pallet cleanser for my current three stories so I will be adding chapters at an inconsistent rate, but I really like the plot and I will be taking this on a regular basis after one of the other three is finished. Thanks for any comments or critiques you may have.**

Chapter One

The Portkey

Fleur was going to get there first. Fleur was sprinting as fast as she could toward the cup, and Harry knew he would never catch her. Then Harry saw something immense over a hedge to his left and he knew that she hadn't.

"Fleur!" Harry bellowed. "On your left!"

Fleur looked around just in time hurl herself past the thing and avoid colliding with it, but in her haste, she tripped. Harry saw her wand fly out of her hand as a gigantic spider stepped into the path and began to bear down upon Fleur.

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled; the spell hit the spider's gigantic, bulbous head covered with dozens of black glassy eyes and he watched as it dropped to the ground, stunned.

Fleur spun around and scrambled for her wand and once she held it she swung around and brought it to bear on the stunned spider.

"How?" she sputtered in exhaustion.

Harry's wand hand dropped to his side in defeat. The cup was only steps away from his competitor. "Go on, take it."

Fleur turned her head and saw the Triwizard Cup and more glory than Beauxbatons had seen in decades only two steps away. She turned back to Harry and then back to the cup once more.

"Putain!" Fleur cursed at the ground.

Harry didn't know much French. In fact the only word in the French language did know was 'yes'.

"Oui?" he responded warily.

Fleur looked back up meeting his eyes and stared at him as if he were insane. "You do not understand what is being said, yes?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Uh … oui."

Fleur's eyes lit up and for the first time that Harry had ever seen the French teen laughed. Her hand came to her mouth in a vain holding of mirth, but eventually she stopped and kept her smile.

"Zee cup, it is yours."

It was Harry's turn to look confused. "You were here first, Fleur. Take it."

Her eyes narrowed with deviousness. "Very well, Harry."

She turned her back to him, pointed her wand at her right hand and whispered. "Collantar!"

"But first, a reward for zee gallant gentleman, no?"

She holstered her wand and stepped forward meeting Harry eye to eye. It was the first time he really noticed that they were the same height however he didn't really notice it for too long before Fleur's lips were on his in a chaste kiss.

Fleur's Veela charm broke through his brain and it felt like he was at the Quidditch World Cup once more except this time there were lips involved, female lips, and his lips. Before his rational thoughts entirely slipped away she pulled back and he noticed as an afterthought that she was holding his hand.

"Sorry," he said and tried to pull back only to notice that their hands were stuck together, her right in his left. He looked back up at her face and saw a devilish smirk on her lips.

"I suppose we will have to take zee cup togezzer."

"But …"

The imperial gaze that he had come to associate with Fleur returned to her face.

"Harry, I will insist that we take zis cup togezzer. If you had played to win you would have let zee Acromantula have me. Instead you chose to be noble, as you had in zee second task."

He looked down in slight embarrassment as Fleur continued.

"I was mistaken when we first met in thinking that you would have entered you name into zee Goblet of Fire. I wish to share zis victory with you to make amends. I want zis, Harry, and Fleur Delacour always will get what she wants."

Harry looked back up at her determined face. She squeezed his hand. "Now take a hold of zis cup!"

When they both reached the cup they each held out a hand over its gleaming handles.

"On three," Harry suggested.

With a nod of approval he started.

"One – two – three –"

They each grabbed a hold of a handle and Harry felt a pull from somewhere behind his navel. His feet left the ground and he could not release the grip he had on the cup. It was then that he realized that the cup was a Portkey.

0

The resurrection of Voldemort left Fleur in a trembling heap tied to a tombstone as she watched her Triwizard companion duel the darkest of wizards while his dark acolytes viewed the inevitable death of Harry Potter.

Except something happened that nobody had expected: Harry had beaten Voldemort's Imperious Curse, he had survived Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse, and he was currently surviving Voldemort's Killing Curse.

A golden beam of light connected the two wands and thousands of golden threads of light created a dome of sorts encasing the two duelers in what appeared to be a battle of wills.

It was only when the Death Eater that was guarding her stepped forward in astounded interest that Fleur realized that her chance to escape had brought itself to bear. Landing on the wet grass earlier provided her made her arms slippery enough for her to wiggle her way underneath the snug ropes that held her to the tombstone. In a minute she was free and kneeling behind the guard eyeing his wand held loosely in his left hand.

A burst of light washed over the entire area and she took her chance snapping up the Death Eater's wand and stunning him a second later. She reached inside his robes and fumbled for only a moment before finding her own rosewood wand.

She held it up in triumph only to look up and see Harry dashing between tombstones toward her.

"The girl is free!" a Death Eater yelled.

Another that was standing only feet away from him sent a green jet of light at her the same second Harry slammed into her side knocking her away.

They tumbled for only a moment before Harry tightened his arm around her middle and snapped his wand forward. "Accio cup!"

0

**July 3**

Harry Potter sat in the smallest bedroom of his aunt and uncle's house staring out the window to the sickly lime green grass below. It had been one of the hottest summers in memory and with water rationing in effect throughout Little Whinging the one positive effect it had was that Harry had very little yard work to do.

With the onset of the heat of the summer Harry also spent as little time inside as humanly possible. The heat made the air conditioning run more which resulted in higher utility bills. This in turn resulted in Vernon yelling and insisting the thermostat be set at an almost ungodly temperature, which resulted with Petunia finding relief in the London shops during the day, and Dudley at any number of his friend's houses.

This left Harry sweating profusely inside after the noon hour. A small albeit warm breeze wafted through the open window and he took advantage of the opportunity, donned one of Dudley's cast-off t-shirts and headed out to the local park to find some shade under a tree and enjoy what little breeze there was before Vernon returned the house to a somewhat livable temperature when he got home from work.

Harry grabbed a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator and made for the front door to escape the unbearable heat from the indoors in favor of the outdoors' sweltering heat. When his hand fell atop the knob to the front door he heard a resounding _Crack_!

He froze in place and after a second thought dropped low and to the side so that he could glance out the front window. Taking a quick glance he didn't see anyone directly in front of the house, but as he shifted to a different angle a figure stepped from the side of the house and briskly walked toward the front door. The angle of the shear window cover made it impossible to discern any distinguishing features.

Then a sound came that Harry wasn't expecting if a major Death Eater attack were to occur at his home, a knock at the front door. He withdrew his wand for safety's sake and crept soundlessly to the peephole and peered warily through.

Fleur?

Harry grabbed the knob and twisted, opening the door to find his former Triwizard companion standing a few feet from the door wearing a dark blue skirt and a white tank top with her silvery blonde hair twisted up into a ponytail.

"Merde Harry, what are you wearing?" Fleur offered in greeting.

A small smile lit upon Harry's face. "And hello to you too, Fleur."

She stepped forward and grasped his shoulders turning him around.

"What iz zis, some kind of Muggle fashion statement?" She tutted in disapproval as she saw Harry's faded jeans hanging down halfway to his knees. "No, zis will not do at all."

Harry screwed up his face in annoyance. "It's fine for me. I don't care what I look like," he explained.

She looked back up at him. "I care what I look like, Harry. And if you are to accompany me zen you shall look better zan you do now."

Surprise took him aback. "I'm going somewhere?"

A sharp nod was returned to his inquiry. "I was told by Professor Dumbledore you were to spend your entire summer under lock and key in zis house, yes?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Well I was going down to the park before I heard you Apparate."

"Like zis?" she asked in confused wonder.

He rolled his eyes and shifted to the other foot. "Look Fleur, this is what I have. I don't exactly get out much as you probably already know." He paused for a moment. "And how'd you know where I live anyway?"

The French girl ignored his question and looked behind him into the house, critically. "I am confused. You obviously can afford not to look like zee vagabond."

While Harry had on occasion hated looking like he couldn't afford proper clothes he had never had someone point it out to him in such blunt terms.

"As much as fun as it is to stand here and have you insult me I have better things to do," he snapped.

With a step backward he started to close the door but it was blocked by the girl's hand.

"Harry please. I am confused," Fleur almost pleaded.

Harry flung the door back open bordering on a rage. "These are my cousin's clothes. I don't have any of my own. My aunt and uncle can't stand having me eat their food much less buy me clothes that actually fit, okay? Are you less confused now? Do you feel better knowing that I'm treated as well as a house-elf? Can I close my effing door now?"

Fleur stepped back with each question thrown at her and flinched when Harry slammed the door in her face.

"Merde," she whispered.

She turned and with a bit of trepidation in her step rounded the house from whence she came.

"Next time you might start off with 'Hi Harry'," said the pink-haired young woman from behind the bushes lining the house.

Fleur flinched and then breathed out to ease her startled nerves. "Tonks, what are you doing here?"

Tonks motioned back at the house with her head. "Dumbledore's got us watching Harry in shifts, which, by the way, you would already know if you were at the last Order meeting."

She didn't let up on the French girl even when ears started to turn red from the slight. "So, you and the prodigy, huh?"

Fleur reddened even more at the inference and turned her embarrassment into aloofness. "If you must know I was going to invite Harry to lunch to zank him for saving my life. He is much too young for a romantic relationship."

Tonks snorted. "Yeah, two years is quite the gulf."

Fleur sniffed as if insulted and continued walking out of sight before she Disapparated.

0

**July 4**

After Harry's aunt and uncle left for the day he waited for the inevitable slamming of the front door signaling Dudley's daily jaunt to one of his friend's houses. He gathered a few items of clothing and made his way to the bathroom for a shower ironically before spending the day sweating profusely. When he returned to his room there were two owls standing atop a good sized package on his desk.

He moved to Hedwig's water bowl and set it on the desk letting the owls drink before setting back out to whoever sent the package. Written in black ink on the plain brown paper was his name and address. Harry grabbed the sides and tore at the paper to find an equally plain brown box with spell-o-tape sealing the opening and an envelope similarly secured on top.

He withdrew the note and read the following:

_Harry,_

_I send along with this gift my sincere apologies for my rudeness yesterday. My attitude was inexcusable and I hope you will accept this gift instead of a proper apology that probably should be made in person. I cannot bring myself to do so because I would most likely make you mad once more and that was never my intention. _

_I owe my life to you, Harry. My intentions yesterday were to take you to lunch and perhaps get to know the young man behind the fame, the same person who risked his life for my own. I have lost my chance as of yesterday and I hope you will find it in your heart to sometime bestow upon me a second._

_Please accept this gift in the spirit that it was given. _

_Fleur _

Harry frowned and then grabbed a letter opener and cut away the tape. He lifted the top off and inside he found clothes. Lifting one article out he was stunned in how small and light it was until it was unfolded. His face flushed and he dropped the satin bikini underwear back in the box.

0

**December 31, 1999, London**

"Six more months," Harry replied to Hannah Abbot as they stood on the west pedestrian walkway of the Hungerford Bridge otherwise known as the Charing Cross Bridge that straddled the River Thames in anticipation of the massive fireworks show in celebration of what most people called the new millennium.

"I'm so excited for you, Harry," she said as she pushed her shoulders forward and hid her face in the fur collar of her coat.

Harry tightened the scarf around his neck and shivered slightly at the frigid air. "Yeah, I'll be so glad when it's done with so I can actually be an Auror; enough of this cadet rubbish."

Hannah giggled and then let the relative silence of passers-by settle in. They watched as some foreign Muggle news crews were finishing setting up their cameras at the middle of the walkway. Some reporters were already broadcasting on the scene commentaries and capturing a few words from some of the locals.

"What are they doing?" Hannah asked.

Harry closed in so he wouldn't be heard as easily by anyone near. "They're covering the fireworks for the Muggle television."

At Hannah's inquiring look he continued. "See that thing that guy is pointing at that other guy?"

She nodded.

"That's a camera and he's using it to send a real time picture of whatever he shoots at to televisions around the world."

Her eyes widened. "You mean every Muggle in the world can see me?"

Harry almost laughed when he looked back at the cameraman pointing straight at the two of them. He froze his movement for a split second and then grabbed a hold of Hannah's arm and spun her around.

"Bloody hell," he cursed to himself.

It was only a second later when he heard the reporter behind him.

"Excuse me?" came a voice with an American accent.

Harry turned and gave the man an uncomfortable smile.

"I'm Stephen Stone from FOX News in America. Would you mind a few quick words for our viewers?"

Harry gave Hannah a fast look. He could see that she was wide-eyed in stage shock. "Uh, sure, a few."

Stone pointed at the cameraman and before Harry knew it the questions were rapid fired from the reporter. Luckily Hannah was silent throughout and only gave the reporter a slight giggle when he referred to Harry and her as young lovers out enjoying the new year.

The news crew moved on to another couple and Harry sighed in relief. "Thanks for staying calm."

She reached out and grabbed Harry's wrists. "People all over the world just saw us!"

He grinned in return. "Yeah, I guess they did."

An electric arc sounded in the distance as they turned and saw the Connex passenger train entered the rail bridge from Charring Cross side speeding their way.

"It's gonna get loud," Harry said on the verge of yelling as the train neared.

Hannah covered her ears with her hands and screamed in delight when the train passed. Seconds later a loud explosion rocked the rail bridge and the sound of screeching metal pierced the air.

"Down!" Harry yelled and rammed his body into Hannah's pushing her to the ground.

The train derailed a moment later the front cars jumping through the guard rails to the pedestrian bridge instantly killing several people as it came to a stop hanging precariously over the Thames.

Harry scrambled to his feet a few seconds later pulling Hannah with him. He pointed to the Charing Cross side and said, "Run!"

Hannah held on to his arm. "What about you?"

He looked back and forth between the hanging train and to his date. "I've got to help."

She nodded and turned to follow the rest of the people pushing their way to the safety of solid land. Harry didn't bother seeing if she made it and turned to see what he could do to help.

He ran to the where the train had crossed over the bridge and saw the carnage of blood and various body parts smeared over the concrete from the lead car sliding along. He swallowed acrid bile that rose though his throat. It was then that his brain registered the screams of the passengers trying to escape the lead car.

Harry saw the second car door open and bloodied passengers scrambling out. He assisted them down and clear of the worst of the carnage until he noticed the reporter from earlier making his way forward.

"Help them," Harry called out. "I've got to get to the front car."

The reporter nodded and Harry leapt atop the hand railing then to the top of the second car. He turned to the side and whipped out his wand to apply a mild sticking charm to the soles of his shoes. Making his way as quick as he could he looked between the two cars and saw the twisted metal of the coupling barely holding together. He applied a permanent sticking charm to the coupling and then hopped to the first car. The back door of the car was locked half open with a couple of hands sticking out. Cries for help sounded from inside.

"Help is here. Get away from the door! I'll open it."

The hands disappeared and send a silent severing charm at the hinges. Before he moved the door he conjured a thick rope and tied it off to the second car. The door moved itself or rather whoever was on the other side of the door moved it and Harry watched as it fell to the side and into the Thames.

He dropped the rope into the car. "Grab on!"

The sounds of sirens echoed in the distance as he pulled them up one at a time and sent them to safety over the top of the second car.

"Five?" Harry said in horror at the last person that he pulled up.

The young teen that grabbed for balance nodded. "Everyone else is dead."

Harry grimaced and pointed to the second car. "Go, hurry."

With one last look in the first car he climbed back and dropped down to the bridge. By the time he made it back several official types were helping the injured from the third car that crossed the two bridges when another squeal of metal sounded at the first car when it popped free and fell to the river below.

The resulting stress on the rest of the train caused it to rock back and then forward toward everyone on the pedestrian bridge. Seeing no other alternative Harry swished and flicked his wand at the third car.

The guardrail folded and the train fell halfway to the bridge. Screams sounded and Harry pushed halting the third and forth cars from killing everyone in the area. He stood to the side with his wand brandished straining against the full weight of the train.

"MOVE! I CAN'T HOLD IT FOR LONG!"

The Emergency Services personnel paused for only a moment before grabbing whoever was near them and dragging them clear.

"Dammit," Harry cursed.

He glanced to the side and saw the news cameras, several of them, pointed directly at him. There was no way he would be able to explain what he was doing, especially to the entire world. So he did the only thing that he could, he Disapparated.

0

"Millions of Muggles! Hundreds of millions of Muggles!" yelled newly elected Minister of Magic Wulfric Pennington. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Harry Potter stood at attention dressed in his best robes. His eyes twitched as spittle flew in his face due to the nearness of his accuser.

"Saved dozens of innocents?" he offered weakly and then with a thought he added, "Sir."

The Minister had turned to his desk and then spun around red-faced. "THAT was a rhetorical question Potter!"

Pennington grabbed a handful of parchment from his desk and waved it in the air. "The ICW is up in arms for your head. Magical governments across the world are scrambling Obliviators to the highest levels of Muggle government."

Harry crooked and eyebrow at the Minister. "What was I supposed to do, let everyone die?"

Without a second thought the Minister exploded in fury. "EXACTLY! They are Muggles! It was a Muggle problem!"

"I don't see it that way," Harry replied with a slight bit of anger in his voice.

"You aren't paid to think, Potter. You are paid to follow and enforce the laws of the Magical government of Great Britain when you graduated the Auror Academy." The Minister pulled out his chair and sat down with a sardonic smile on his face. "And as of now that will be never."

Pennington dropped the parchment he was holding to his desk and leaned back. "Harry Potter, as of this second day of January in the 1157th year of Merlin you are hereby expelled from the Auror Academy and sacked from the Ministry of Magic."

Harry's eyes narrowed in the expected punishment.

"You will consider yourself under house arrest for seventeen violations of the Statutes of Secrecy," the Minister continued. "You will confine yourself to your home until the tenth of January whereupon you will be tried in a full hearing of the Wizengamot at nine a.m."

Harry gritted his teeth.

"Do you understand the charges laid upon you and these judiciary requirements?"

Harry nodded once. "Yes."

The Minister held out his hand. "Your Cadet badge, Potter."

Harry reached in his pants pocket and took one last look at the badge he worked so hard on earning and then tossed it on the desk before he turned and exited the office.

0

Ron Weasley was waiting in the Academy locker room as Harry cleaned out his locker in silent anger.

"It's not right," he said to Harry. "I mean you're bloody Harry Potter."

The ex-Cadet rolled his eyes his face hidden by the small door of his locker. "It's done, Ron. Let it be."

He stuffed the last of his workout clothes into a beige colored rucksack and swung the door closed with a hollow _clang_. "Give me a call sometime."

Ron jumped to his feet. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry dropped the rucksack and let it hang from his hand from one of the straps. "It means that I don't work here anymore, Ron. It means we won't see each other on a daily basis."

The redhead looked completely lost. "But …"

Harry's last nerve had frayed at the Minister's office and he snapped. "Look, go home read a Quidditch magazine and live your life, Ron. I know, why don't you fuck Hermione in the ass again. You were real proud of that accomplishment last week. Maybe you can make her squeal this time. Me, I'm going to have some fun, maybe get drunk, shag some anonymous girl and count the days till I get tossed into Azkaban."

With that he turned and exited the locker room leaving a rapidly reddening Ron in his wake.

When he reached the street he slung his rucksack over his left shoulder and hailed a taxi instructing the driver to take him to the closest bar.

0

Harry awoke the next morning with a skull-shattering, stomach-twisting hangover. He groaned at the sunlight shining through the window next to his bed … not _his_ bed as the thought made it through his hazy mind that he didn't have a window in his bedroom.

He opened a single eye and looked to the side at the back of a mass of blonde hair. Luckily the girl was facing the other way and the idea of an undetected escape was still a possibility. He pulled the sheet back and sat up slowly. Wincing slightly at the blood rushing either to or from his head, he wasn't entirely sure, either way he waited until the severe pounding eased to a dull throb.

Finding his clothes was a task in reverse tracking: underwear first then socks as they were closest to the bed. His jeans were by the door. He toed them up into his hand not wanting to bend over and suffer another head rush. As he slipped into his jeans he glanced over at the girl he had bedded the previous night, or was it earlier in the morning. Either way he leaned to the side to get a better look and winced. The feeling of nausea increased and it wasn't from the hangover.

_Merlin, how much did I drink last night?_

He thanked whatever god that would listen for finding all of his clothes, wand and rucksack in a nice trail that led to the front door and his escape from what could probably be described as a very bad mistake of liquor-induced pub-closing judgment.

Not wanting to risk a nasty Splinching he retrieved his wand and summoned the Knight Bus, and after subjecting himself to a brief stint of being slammed to and fro he stumbled out of the bus and into his rebuilt home in Godric's Hollow.

He dropped his rucksack by the door and made his way to the bedroom shedding his two day worn clothes along the way. He grabbed a remote and turned on the television that sat in the corner then dropped it on the bedside table as he entered the bathroom and started the shower warming. Replaying the last few days in his mind he thought of a dozen different ways he could have done things differently.

Opening the medicine cabinet he withdrew a hangover remedy and downed it grimacing at its taste. In his mind he fought the accusations of the Minister and even thought of several witty remarks that were well past their prime in usage. It was always the way, well after the fact, which one would think of their best arguments and the futility of not being able to use them.

Stepping under the hot-as-he-could-stand-it water he leaned against the wall of the shower and closed his eyes.

0

The phone at the bedside table rang as he was tying his shoelaces and Harry frowned in anticipation of who it might be. Perhaps it was Ginny trying for the billionth time that month to worm her way back into his life after the fiasco at Hogsmead. Maybe it was even Hermione angry because Ron took his suggestion and tried to bugger her again last night. That thought made him shake his head.

He reached over and lifted the receiver off of its cradle and propped it on his shoulder as he continued with his laces.

"Potter," he greeted whoever was on the other end.

"Harry Potter?" a male voice replied.

He finished with his second shoe and grabbed the end of the receiver straightening his back in turn. "Who's this?"

"Gambolt Jameson of the Prime Minister's office," the man said with a somewhat official tone to his voice.

Harry squinted his eyes in confusion. "What can I do for you this morning, Mr. Jameson?"

"Will you please confirm that you are the same Harry Potter that saved twenty-seven people on the Hungerford Bridge on the thirty-first of December?"

He rolled his eyes and his slid free hand down his face rubbing the remainder of the crust from his eyes as he went. "Yeah," he said shortly.

A short silence held its place in the conversation and then was broken by the caller. "Mr. Potter there is a Ministry car pulling up to your house. The Prime Minister is requesting your presence."

Harry got to his feet and exited his room in favor of his home office at the front of the house where he pulled aside the curtains, and he saw a black limousine with British Ministry markings waiting at the curb.

He breathed out an even breath and returned to the bedroom. Picking up the dropped receiver he cringed at what he was about to say.

"I'm not really supposed to speak to anyone about the incident, Mr. James."

"I assure you, Mr. Potter that we are all well aware of your secretive society and the possession of, shall we say, special gifts that you put on display for over …" there was a short pause and the sound of shuffling papers in the background, "… here it is. The last official count is two point seven billion people across the globe."

Harry swallowed with great difficulty and felt his knees weaken as he dropped to the bed in disbelief.

"It's all the rage on the internet and on all the official news stations. Do you own a television, Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned his head to the corner then grabbed the remote and changed the channel to Sky One. He tapped the volume up a couple of notches and heard the current debate between two very animated men.

"_I tell you it's Satan's work on Earth. 'He will come to you in a familiar face,_'" one man quoted scripture.

"Oh you got to be fucking kidding me," Harry whispered to himself.

"Not at all, Mr. Potter," James answered.

Shaken from his thoughts Harry returned to the conversation. "Not you; the idiots on the telly." He clicked the television off. "Give me a few minutes, Mr. James, I'll be out front in a few minutes."

The line disconnected without any salutations and Harry hung up the phone.

He grabbed and pocketed his necessities then pulled a lined trench coat from the closet by the front door before exiting, locking, and charming the door against any unwanted visitors until he returned. The limo driver was waiting aside the rear door and opened it at Harry's approach.

Harry nodded and climbed in the back.

He knew he could have Apparated to wherever the Prime Minister was at currently, but Harry knew he needed time to recall those witty remarks and arguments that he was thinking of earlier in his hangover induced fog.

He never second-guessed saving those peoples lives. That wasn't even in question. It was just how he went about saving them that was the big issue.

0

The limo stopped in front of a small well kept chateau where two men waited at the front walk near the main door. When the limo came to a stop they advanced to the car and escorted Harry inside and closed the front door.

After a brief and what Harry thought a bracing pat-down he was escorted to a room toward the back of the chateau. The men took posts on either side of the door and motioned for Harry to proceed.

The room turned out to be a fairly well stocked two tiered library. A reading table sat in the middle of the rectangular room and a more formal desk at the far end of which sat the Prime Minister.

"Mr. Potter, come in, have a seat."

The PM didn't bother with the traditional handshake and Harry knew that this didn't bode well of the coming conversation. He took the left of two chairs that stood in front of the desk and set his hand on the arms letting his fingers slide along the leather.

"Thank you for coming without any argument," the PM started.

Harry gave him an acknowledging nod.

The PM interlaced his fingers and leaned forward on his forearms into the desk. "First, on the behalf of the people of England I would like to thank you for your part in the atrocities that occurred on New Year's Eve. If not for you then the death toll would have been … well…"

Before Harry responded the PM cut him off. "Second, I've asked you here to try to put a stop to what the Magicals are trying to do to the rightful governments around the world."

Harry sat up straighter. "Excuse me?"

The PM's eyed hardened. "The attacks on certain members of Parliament, and other legislative bodies across the world," he offered.

In response Harry sat on the edge of his seat. "What attacks?"

The PM searched Harry's face for any sign of deception and then grabbed a remote control that sat on the desk and pointed it at one of the bookcases. Two sets of cases recessed back into the wall and then pulled apart revealing a large monitor that slid forward flush with the case. The screen came on and Harry could tell it was a closed circuit caption of an official office.

One moment a man sat behind his desk then the next a wizard Apparated in his office and obliviated him. The PM increased the sound and Harry heard the wizard perform the Imperious Curse.

Harry's jaw dropped and he was out of his chair and in front of the monitor watching as the wizard gave his victim instructions which would cover up Harry's involvement in the actions at the bridge.

"One would think that people of your power would make sure they weren't seen on the CCTV," the PM stated wryly.

Harry stared on at the monitor. "They're idiots. They've closed themselves out of society for so long that they don't know what regular people are capable of."

"You say 'they' like you aren't one of them."

Harry turned pulled his coat open and pocketed his hands. "I'm what's known as Muggle raised; I grew up in Little Whinging. Most wizards are born into wizard society and shun anything normal. They're about two hundred years in the past, technology wise."

The PM's face somewhat relaxed.

"I'm told that you are somewhat of a powerful person in your world, Mr. Potter."

Harry shook his head and returned to his seat. "I'm famous, not powerful; there's a difference."

"Fame comes with its own amount of power," the PM concluded.

"Well, I'm more of the infamous type recently because I decided it was better to use my magic to save Muggles instead of letting them die to protect the Statutes of Secrecy."

The PM reclined in his chair. "Yes, I understand about State Secrecy, but what is happening is beyond the pale, Mr. Potter. I cannot allow these attacks to go on any longer and the Minister of Magic refuses to even return my requests through that portrait that's hanging in my office. Apparently I'm not important enough to be heard." The distain in the PM showed in his voice.

Harry nodded. "In his eyes you aren't."

"I see."

"And they aren't going to listen to anything you've got to say short of …" Harry stopped abruptly and looked into the PM's eyes seeing the resolute defiance behind them. "You aren't …"

Before Harry had the chance to finish his thought he heard the distinct _Crack _of Apparition behind him. He dropped forward and whipped his wand out.

"Perkinston," Harry spat. "What are you doing here?"

"Potter," the Obliviator answered in response. "Consorting with the Muggle Government? This won't look good at your trial."

Harry silently sent forth a red jet of light that impacted on the Obliviator before he could raise his wand in return. The PM rounded his desk.

"Is he dead?"

Harry shook his head. "I've stunned him."

"That's the last straw, Mr. Potter."


	2. Seven Days War: Day One

Chapter Two

The Seven Days War: Day One

**August 13, 1995**

The attic was the only place to escape the mad ritualistic cleaning compulsions of the Weasley matriarch. The door, once thought sealed shut with another Permanent Sticking Charm, wasn't the only way inside, as Harry found while cleaning a wall sconce one afternoon.

The rage eating its way through Harry's gut the entire summer of being ignored by everyone in his life at the direction of his once trusted Headmaster forced Harry into seclusion. Now he felt as if he was being shoved to the side with cleaning duties to keep him occupied while the vaunted Order of the Phoenix fought his most hated enemy. The adults, thinking him too young and fragile, gave him the same duties as if he was at Privet Drive. Clean. Don't ask questions. Do what we tell you to do.

He slammed his fist down on the empty wooden crate he was sitting near and cursed.

"Harry?" a voice came from the room adjacent to the attic.

He froze and tried to make as little amount of sound as possible, even going so far as to taking a breath and holding it so that the only thing that would give him away was the sound of his beating heart.

A few moments passed and the voice returned. "Harry, Sirius would have told us if zere were zings zat go bump in zee attic. Please open zee door."

Fleur. The first person he had taken his anger out on at the beginning of the summer. Harry released his breath and sighed as he dropped his head backward in dread. He took to his feet and unlocked the door. With a slight push Fleur watched as the door along with the entire frame surrounding it swung free.

She smiled in wonder at a mystery solved. "Zat is how it was done."

Harry blocked the doorway with his body and raised his eyebrows in question as to what she wanted.

Having learned her lesson at the beginning of July she reigned in her more aggressive tendencies. "May I enter?"

Harry sighed slightly again but stepped aside as she entered the dusty attic. After she passed he closed the door again.

"Can you do that charm that they use downstairs at the meetings? I don't want anyone else to hear us." He looked down slightly. "This is the only place I can come to get some peace."

She looked around the room with a frown on her face and nodded. "I can also clear out the dust if you like?"

Harry looked back up and gave her a slight grin. "Thanks."

With a flourish of her wand the accumulated dust of a decade or more rose from the surfaces of the stacked boxes and furniture stored in the room. She directed it out the small window vent on the far wall and then she turned and cast the Imperturbable Charm on the room.

"Zere, you may make as much noise as you like, Harry."

He walked over to one of a few uncomfortable looking wooden chairs and tested its durability for sitting. "Handy charm."

"I can teach it to you if you want," she offered.

Harry moved one of the chairs close to Fleur and took one for himself. "I'm only fifteen," he used as an excuse. "Underage sorcery laws."

A look of confusion took Fleur's face once more. "Nobody has told you?" She rolled her eyes. "Of course not."

After she sat and crossed her legs she explained further. "Zee Ministry cannot tell exactly who is using magic in a house full of wizards and witches. It is up to zee parents to enforce zee law."

She waved her arm. "Zee point is moot because zis house has not been occupied in over a decade. Zee Ministry has long since stopped monitoring the area."

Harry's jaw unhinged at the revelation and then clamped shut again as another rage was boiling. "She … that woman …"

Fleur raised a single delicate eyebrow. "What?"

"Molly Weasley!" Harry said through clinched teeth. He stood up and walked to the door pointing. "That woman has had us scrubbing every nook and cranny in this filthy house." He stepped back quickly and shoved his hands forward. "Look! Blisters, burns!"

He rolled up his one of his sleeves. "Cursed Doxie bites. And all this time I could have used my bloody wand!"

Fleur crossed her hands atop her leg and let Harry blow off steam for another few minutes until he stopped and dropped onto his chair.

"Are you finished?"

He crossed his arms and drew back to his default grimace.

"If you wish I will teach you zee Charm and you may escape here whenever you will without bother," she began. "However you may not tell any of the others that I am teaching you."

At Fleur's condition Harry looked hurt. "But…"

"Zat is zee price, Harry. Molly Weasley has put a restriction on the children of zis house while she is here."

The cool grace of the French girl calmed him somewhat.

"Then why are you offering to teach me?"

A grin stretched across her face. "Because, Harry, I am your friend and I want you to be happy."

0

**January 3, 2000**

"What do mean, the last straw?" Harry asked nervously.

The PM looked down at the stunned Obliviator. "We have always had contingency plans, Mr. Potter. We have top people in place to ensure that events like those we just seen will not progress much further than they already have."

He walked back to his desk and pressed a button on his phone. "Jamesonon, waken the sleepers and upgrade security status to red."

Harry took a couple of quick steps toward the PM. "Wait, you don't know what you're doing.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter," the PM said as he took his seat. "By your own admission you Magicals are stuck in the eighteenth century. This should be a relatively expedient solution."

Harry turned to the Obliviator and then back to the PM. "Is it a requirement of elected officials to lose their common sense when they take office?"

The PM raised an eyebrow of distain at the insult. "I think taking steps to insure the protection of the rightful governing officials and the press displays a great deal of common sense. Do you not agree?"

He had a point, but then again…

"Look, give me twenty-four hours to put a stop to this."

After a few moments the PM leaned forward into his desk once more. "You have an hour."

0

Harry Apparated to the Ministry of Magic and proceeded to the bank of elevators. When he arrived at the top floor he was met by two Hit Wizards.

"I need to speak with the Minister," he stated flatly.

"We've been told not to let you pass," the shorter of the two answered.

Frustration was beginning to show on Harry's face. "Fine, then I'll go back to the Muggle Prime Minister and tell him he can go ahead with the war he has planned.

The two Hit Wizards looked at each other and the shorter one motioned his head toward a row of chairs. "Wait over there."

Harry moved to the seating area but did not avail himself to the convenience. Within a minute the taller Hit Wizard returned and escorted Harry back to the Minister's office.

"What's this about the Muggles and war?"

Harry dove right into the decisions of this latest of dismal Minister choices. "I think it has something to do with performing Unforgivable Curses on their people."

The Minister opened a decanter and poured himself two fingers of a brown colored beverage. "I think you know as well as I do that the Statutes of Secrecy take precedence above any other law. The use of Unforgivables are covered under section 342 b …"

"That's our law," Harry interrupted. "Not theirs."

The Minister sipped at his glass. "Wizarding law is the only one that matters, Potter. The Muggles are of no consequence."

He couldn't believe the utter arrogance of the man sitting before him.

"How would you feel, Mr. Minister, if a Muggle kidnapped you, subjected you to mind control and then popped you back into your lofty office to do their bidding; would you consider that an act of war? Would you rather—I don't know—maybe rather the Muggles contacted you and tried to work things out before resorting to this?"

After setting his glass down the PM answered the question. "Muggles would never go to war with Wizards we would decimate them and they know it."

Harry laughed mockingly. "Are you that completely stupid? They already have."

That froze the Minister in place. "What do you mean?"

Harry dropped himself into a chair and leaned back. "The Muggle Prime Minister had me over for a chat to thank me for saving those peoples lives and to show me a few things. Imagine my surprise when I see an Obliviator cursing one of their government types."

The Minister's eyes opened in slight surprise at what Harry guessed wasn't so much that it happened, but that the wizard had managed to get himself caught in the act.

"It's on tape, Minister. It's going to be showed over the Muggle television just like I was shown to all of those millions of people. Oh, by the way, the Muggles are estimating that it wasn't hundreds of millions but almost three billion people that have witnessed what happened on the bridge the other night."

The Minister jumped to his feet. "WHAT!"

Harry smiled sardonically. "I was shown saving people, Minister. If we had done this the right way we would come out smelling like roses, but now they are going to see you sending people out to effectively attempt a coup-de-tate.

"And then to top the whole thing off right when the Prime Minister was willing to see reason up pops an Obliviator to do the exact same thing to him."

The Minister started to look extremely nervous. "What did he do?"

"I'd be looking for a response from him very soon. He said I had an hour to straighten things out, and if I didn't there'd be war."

"Wallace, Ferring, get in here!" Pennington yelled. A second later the two Hit Wizards came busting through the door. "Wallace, alert the Aurors, alert level Morgana. Ferring, recall the Obliviators."

He turned back to Harry. "Potter, you've got to buy us more time to prepare."

Harry shook his head in confusion. "Prepare for what?" Then he connected the dots. "What are you doing? What's alert level Morgana? And, by the way, I don't work for you anymore, remember?"

The Minister slammed his fist down on his desk. "Are you a Wizard or not, Potter?"

Harry shifted forward to the edge of his seat. "If you are looking for a war, Minister, then the Muggles will give you one. You know as well as I do that it will be bloody and you will turn pretty much every Muggle in the world against us. Billions, Minister; do you comprehend what that means?"

Harry doubted that the Minister had actually thought through the larger picture.

"And what do you suggest, Potter? Perhaps we should crawl on our hands and knees and beg forgiveness," he snapped back.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing so dramatic. How about we lay the cover up at the Muggles feet. I can think of a few ways around what I did at the bridge, but you will have to undo what you ordered and let me go back to show the Prime Minister what an actual Wizard can do. Maybe it will scare him off the offensive and into negotiations."

The Minister picked up his glass and took another drink. He sat for a couple of minutes seemingly thinking through what Harry had said and maybe a couple of other possibilities before he committed to a plan.

"Go back and talk to him. Let him know I am amiable to a discussion."

Harry rose from his seat and gave the Minister a grim smile before turning and exiting his office. He glanced at his watch noticing the PM's deadline was fast approaching.

0

Harry chose to Apparate well in front of the chateau imagining what would happen to him if he chose to appear in the library. The thought of being shot didn't sit well with him for the near future. He noticed that the two security guards that were previously stationed on either side of the door had been replaced by uniformed types with very large automatic weapons which were trained on him as he approached.

He held his hands out from his body trying his best to seem harmless. When he made it somewhat near the chateau the uniforms stopped him and waved a device around his body. After another bracing pat-down he was allowed inside and led to the library once more.

Harry wasn't surprised to find several military types standing around the reading table with the PM amongst them.

"Mr. Potter," the PM began with a tone of expectedness.

Harry strode forward. "I've got him to pull all of his people out. There shouldn't be anymore attacks on your people. I can't speak to what other countries are doing."

The PM nodded thoughtfully.

Harry continued. "I would suggest you get your people in touch with his and start whatever you need to in order to bring this thing to a close. He said he was ready to talk."

"And what was his mood, Mr. Potter?"

"Excuse me?" Harry inquired.

The PM took a couple of steps forward. "His demeanor: was he ashamed, belligerent, frightened, aggressive?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess a little of each until I reminded him that he was trying to intimidate Billions of people. That kind of took the fight from him."

The PM nodded again.

"He did authorize a demonstration for you."

Some of the military guys looked interested at what that actually entailed.

"A demonstration of what?" asked the PM.

Harry pocketed his hands. "I guess he doesn't want to lose face or something. I suggested that I could show you what you'd actually be up against if you decided not to talk to him."

"You?" one of the better dressed military types said with a small amount of comedic disbelief in his voice. "You're barely out of your teens."

Harry smiled innocently.

The PM interceded before more words were had between the two. "I've seen his jacket, Barry. Don't underestimate what this young man can do."

Harry turned around looking for something. He took one of his hands out of his pocket and waved it around. "Is there somewhere around here that I can show you, preferably somewhere private and where you won't mind if I destroy a few things."

0

A short walk and two jeep rides later Harry was escorted to an area of the grounds that looked somewhat like an old junk yard of sorts. Three dilapidated tractors most likely kept for parts were lined up next to each other, and there were old oil drums containing various trash, metal and plastic here and there.

Harry nodded in appreciation. "This should do."

"What, exactly are you going to show us?" the officer known only as Barry asked.

Harry withdrew his wand as he faced away from his small audience. "Magic."

With a flick and a swish Harry levitated one of the tractors clear of the other two and sat it down. He pointed next to the barrel of metal scraps and all of them watched as its contents floated out and with a flamboyant arc of Harry's wand shot toward the tractor at a blurring speed. The scrap dinged loudly and ripped through the large tires, and most of the body leaving small holes and in other places gaping holes. The tractor shuttered and dropped a foot to the ground.

With another wave and a thrust of his wand a burst of violet a few inches wide shot straight through the engine block. He brought his arm in an uppercut motion and leveled it in the center shooting what remained of the tractor end over end in the air. It came crashing down with enough force to almost fold the back end to the front.

Barry the decorated officer looked uncomfortable but belligerent. "What you've just done could be accomplished with a rail guns or an explosive or two?"

Harry nodded in agreement. "True, but the thing is wizards don't need to carry around those things to get the job done. Plus we never run out of ammunition." He noticed understanding dawn on the other officer's faces.

"And that isn't the limit of what wizards can accomplish. "With a large flourish of his hand Harry shouted out, "_Fiendfyre_!"

A jet of red and orange flame shot out and impacted the remains of the tractor. He directed the flame in a circular pattern with his wand and watched as it grew in intensity and size. Thirty seconds later they could no longer even see the tractor because it was totally engulfed in the almost sentient flame. Harry kept a line of sight between the wand and the inferno as he raised his hand and concentrated the ball of flame smaller and smaller closer to the ground until he waved it away and send it explosively to the other two tractors.

A serpent-like head grew at the lead and engulfed the tractors igniting whatever it touched sending the machines into the air with an explosion that mushroomed a hundred feet in the air. Harry backed up and quickly cast a repulsion charm to scatter any debris away from the onlookers.

When the flames dissipated he turned and saw the astounded faces of the military types and the resolute face of the Prime Minister.

Once more Harry turned to another barrel, this time loaded with discarded plastics. He adjusted his wand into a transfiguration grip and jabbed it forward. The barrel twisted and reformed into a large male lion which stood its ground for a moment and looked menacingly at the group of humans. Then it growled and let loose a loud roar.

Adjusting his wand back into a conjuring style grip he pulled his arm back and shot it forward loosing a wooden bolt into the angry face of the lion dropping it to the ground. He spun around and sheathed his wand.

"That is a taste of what wizards can do." Harry said with conviction. "Now, do me a favor and talk to the Minister; end this war before it starts."

0

From the sort-of-junkyard Harry Apparated to the atrium of the Ministry of Magic once more to relay the willingness of the Prime Minister to settle things before they had gone too far. Pennington still seemed willing to talk and soon Disapparated. Harry hoped it was to later appear in the PM's office to iron the issues out.

With a twinge of pride in his accomplishments of the morning Harry returned to Godric's Hollow and clicked on the television in the den while he ate brunch. He avoided the news channels during his meal and decided afterward to watch a few segments in order to come up with a plausible excuse for the PM that would pass muster with the Muggle public.

The major religions were represented on all of the talking-head panels who were in turn countered by the scientific community with the possibilities of current technology. Harry was surprised to learn that Muggles were in fact on the brink of developing a fabric similar in aspect to his Invisibility Cloak. Of course that little factoid was submitted by a wide-eyed conspiracy theorist so it didn't carry much weight with the other panelists.

It was then that the anchor leading the panel interrupted the discussion.

"I've just been notified of breaking news. A hostage situation in the Barnet area of north London. We have a man on the scene outside a Florist shop on The Broadway off the A1. Brett?"

The scene switched to a heavily clothed man in his twenties. "Stephen, I'm on Hartley Avenue across from Princess Daisy Florist where a lone gunman has taken two people hostage in connection to the Connex bombing on New Year's Eve."

Harry's attention was grabbed even tighter to the television screen.

"At ten thirty-five this morning, shortly after opening, a call was made to local authorities alerting them to the situation including the gunman's demands."

The screen split showing the anchor and the reporter. "Brett, have the authorities released those demands?"

The reporter nodded. "The gunman apparently wants the savior of the Connex survivors to appear before him thereby proving the existence of extra-terrestrials once and for all. He insists that the government has been in on a cover-up for decades and that the truth is out there."

Harry clenched his fists. "Along with the wanker's mind."

"Stephen, stand by, something's happening," the reporter said before being distracted by a disruption behind him.

The screen went wide with a shot from the front of the store. Princess Daisy was a simple glass front shop saddled on either side by a nail salon and a women's clothing store. The camera closed in on the three paned glass exterior, and even closer to the door on the left hand side.

Harry's face fell in horror as he watched someone he knew being pushed out in front of who he was assuming was the gunman, Susan Bones. She opened the door and the man sliding around behind her held a very large handgun to her head. Terror was etched on her face.

"Oh Bloody Hell!" Harry yelled to nobody when he jumped up and quickly opened the closet next to the front door. He spread the coats apart and pushed on the back wall to reveal a secret inset that hid his Invisibility Cloak. He grabbed the cloak and threw it over his head. A last glance at the television showed the gunman yelling something at the police. Harry didn't care what it was when he Disapparated away.

0

Harry Apparated to the end of Hartley Avenue so as not to make the police or the gunman think that the report of Apparation was a gunshot. Getting through the crowd gathering was another problem altogether. With a burst of inspiration he cast a Muggle Repelling Charm on himself and made his way forward. The crowd in front and the surrounding ten foot area suddenly remembered that they had an appointment to get to, or that they left the gas on at home effectively clearing a swath to the police barricade.

Harry looked around and noticed the Muggle Repelling Charm had everyone looking in every direction except at him. He whipped off the cloak, rolled it up and shoved it deep in one of the inner pockets of the trench coat and then canceled the charm. The swarm of people noticing a better vantage point closed the empty area back up once again.

He hopped the barricade and hadn't made it two steps when he was stopped by the police.

"Hey, you can't … holy hell it's you!" The uniformed officer went white and he turned to someone behind him. "Inspector!"

Screams and gasps behind Harry made themselves known as the people in the crown recognized him from the film clip being aired on the news every five minutes.

"It's him!" "Blimey, it's E.T." "He's from the future!" He's hot!"

Harry turned at the last one and looked at the crowd with disbelief on his face. "Are you lot listening to yourselves?"

Turning back he almost bumped into a tall semi-well-dressed man who was taking a great interest in him. "It's you, isn't it?"

Harry held out his hand. "I come in peace."

The Inspector paused for a second and the raised an eyebrow.

"I'm kidding," Harry replied. "I'm not an alien, from the future or otherwise."

At the look of relief on the Inspector's face Harry continued. "I do however work with Her Majesty's Secret Service so what you know about me will be kept in the strictest confidence. No talking to news services or anyone else for that matter."

Harry had no idea what he was saying; only relying on what he had seen at the movies over the last couple of years.

"Right," the Inspector said as he looked on with a large amount of skepticism. "You know this joker?" he asked as he thumbed behind him at the shop.

Harry shook his head. "No, but those people that he has at gunpoint are my friends."

The Inspector filed that away obviously for later use. "Are they like you?"

"Well, I've only seen the one he brought out a minute ago. She's a civilian. Who's the other?"

Without a beat the Inspector replied. "Your lady friend from the other night."

Harry's heart sunk into his stomach. "Hannah," he whispered.

"Anything you can tell me about them?"

He ignored the Inspector's question and started to move forward. "I need you to get your men back and protect the crowd. I won't be held responsible for any stray gunfire."

The Inspector started to protest. "You can't just waltz in here …"

Harry turned on him and got up in his face. "I can do just about anything that I want, Inspector. If you have a problem with it then I suggest you call the Prime Minister. Now I will not tell you again to move these people back." He glanced back at the crowd and the news cameras as well. "And if you can do something about the cameras I'll be in your debt."

The Inspector shoved his hands in his coat pockets and gnashed his teeth. Harry didn't wait for a response and strode forward.

The T-section of Hartley Avenue and The Broadway widened as the police shoved the barricades back. There were a few cars left sideways in the road with an Armed Response Unit taking positions behind them. One of them offered Harry a bullet-resistant vest and he shook his head in response.

"I move quicker without the weight."

The lead man from the ARU briefed him on the situation. "He's got them both behind the counter. If you can get him to show himself without a hostage we can take him out."

"Without shooting me?" Harry asked with a slight bit of doubt in his voice.

"We're professionals."

"Uh huh."

Harry walked out into the middle of the intersection with his arms held out to the side showing he wasn't armed. A few seconds later Susan returned with the gunman behind her. Her scared look lessened when she saw her old classmate.

From about twenty feet in front of the shop Harry stopped. "Susan, are you all right?"

She couldn't move her head because the gunman had a handful of her hair in his grasp. "Hannah's dead, Harry."

He dropped his arms to his sides and looked like he'd been kicked in the gut.

"And she'll be next if you don't show everyone that I'm tellin' the truth!" the gunman yelled.

Several cracks of Apparition sounded in the distance and Harry knew he was running out of time. He didn't know if they were Aurors to help with the hostage situation or something worse. Focusing on the gunman Harry looked at the tension in his face and the positioning of the gun.

He knew exactly how long it took to pull a trigger. Given recognition and response time he had about three seconds before the gunman could make good on his promise. People that are armed always think that they have the upper hand to those not. It's surprising how much ground could be covered between the unsuspecting armed man and a determined enough person that is willing to get to him, he remembered his Unarmed Combat instructor saying to his class at the Academy.

"What do you want me to do?"

The gunman grinned and motioned to the crowd with his head. "Show'em your stuff."

"Let the girl go and I'll do whatever you want," Harry said plainly.

The gunman laughed. "I let her go and your police buddies end me."

Harry held up a finger and then turned around. "Drop your guns and get back," he snapped. "Now!"

He found the Inspector and gave him a quick nod. When the ARU set their guns down Harry took a couple of slow steps backward to close the gap even further knowing the gunman was watching what the police were doing. When he turned back around he was only five or six good steps from the gunman.

_Three seconds_, the instructor's voice sounded in his head. He hoped to Merlin that he was right for Susan's sake.

While the gunman was watching the police step back unarmed Harry caught Susan's eyes and he looked quickly to the side and slightly motioned down. Her eyes widened but afterward her face hardened in resolution.

Harry held his hand close to his side with three fingers extended. Her eyes dropped and he checked to see if the gunman was still occupied with the police. He was.

Curling up each finger in turn Harry jumped forward as the last disappeared into a fist.

Susan dropped down and to the side as instructed. She screamed as a handful of hair was ripped from her head but managed to clear herself from in front of the gunman.

By the time Harry counted to two the gunman had raised his weapon and fired point blank, but it was already too late as Harry drove his shoulder into the man's midsection and both of them went flying through the open door into the shop.

Searing heat flared in Harry's right shoulder starting off a yell that lasted until the both of them were on the ground. The gunman relied too much on his weapon in close quarters because Harry reared back with his good arm and drove it into the man that had killed Hannah Abbott.

The gun wavered in Harry's face and discharged once more wide and to the right. With practice befitting a trained Auror Harry flicked his wand free and shoved it under the man's jaw.

"_REDUCTO_!"

0

Harry winced at the Healer prodding his shoulder with his wand. "Is it necessary for you to poke?"

The healer returned with a withering glare. "Only if you insist on acquiring holes in your body where there were none before."

Harry groaned as another tiny piece of his shirt and coat was removed from the wound.

"You're lucky we were able to restore hearing to your ear, Mr. Potter. Stop complaining."

The door to the examining room slammed open and in strode the Minister of Magic. "Do the words 'house and arrest' mean nothing to you, Potter?"

"Erm, duuuh," sarcasm dripped from his lips.

"You are not an Auror anymore." And then with a second thought he added. "Hell, you were never an Auror."

The healer eased back from Harry's shoulder. "Minister if you are going to be in this room then you will lower your voice. If not then after I am done probing Mr. Potter's new hole I'll be probing yours." He motioned up and down with his wand for emphasis.

The Minister curled his lip in a frightening similar way to a fallen Pureblood Harry used to know. He moved closer and continued his ramblings but in a much more civil tone.

"The Wizengamot is in an uproar over the death of the Abbott girl."

"Her name was Hannah," Harry snapped and then winced as the Healer poked him harder than was necessary. With a glare at the Healer he continued. "She was my friend and I wasn't about to let someone threaten her or Susan's life if I could help it."

The Minister leaned in perhaps so Harry could smell the garlic on his breath from lunch. "Your constant inability to restrain yourself from leaping to the aide of every single person in the United Kingdom may undo everything I've accomplished today."

Confusion raced across Harry face. "What?"

"The inroads to peace, Potter. I've brought the British Ministry of Magic back from the brink of war with the Muggles."

Harry's eyebrows came to a point as his display of disbelief was shown. "What! You arrogant, son-of-a …" He leaned forward and made a grab at the Minister only to inadvertently shove the Healer's wand further into his wound. "Aarrrggh! FUCK!"

The Healer reared back and snapped his wand at the Minister. "Out!"

Pennington stepped to the side away from the cursing patient. "I'm the Minister of Magic. You can't …"

"Probing, Mr. Minister," the Healer looked on in devilish delight. "Probing."

The Minister narrowed his eyes and backed up to the door. "This isn't the last you've heard from me, Potter."

0

With his arm in a sling and instructions not to overexert his arm for the day, Harry was released from the Healer's care. He made his way down to the cashier to make arrangements for payment when the front doors to St. Mungo's burst open.

Two Auror's were escorted, or more to the point carried in with blood rapidly dripping to the floor. "We need help here!"

Healer's assistants and Healers themselves rushed to the front. Harry noticed that the person that had treated him was among the rush to aide the Aurors.

"More holes!"

"Oh, crap," came from Harry's mouth.


	3. Seven Days War: Continued

Author's note: Future chapters of this story will first be posted at PatronusCharm (dot) net where you can actually change the font to a readable level and in different styles so as to not ruin your eyes. Also it has the added advantage of being able to filter out the freaking fangirl SLASH if you'd like. Addtionally I respond to almost every review there because it is a heck of a lot easier than doing it at this site. So it's up to you. The story is posted on on the front page of that address when I make an update. Try it out. Your reviews are always welcome. Thanks for reading

**Chapter Three**

**The Seven Days War: Day Two**

Numerous wizards coming and going through the main doors of St. Mungo's were nothing new in the wizarding hospital, but the newest maladies that they suffered were quite the change from the ordinary. Harry sat in the waiting room close to the information window for any news he could derive from those in the know. He knew from the onset of the first Aurors that came in, almost two hours previous, that they suffered from the same injuries that led him to his own visit.

Most, of the seven Aurors admitted, arrived with various blood-letting wounds. One Auror was unlucky enough to be missing her arm due to a particularly nasty shot to her shoulder from what Harry guessed was a very large caliber weapon. Luckily, as ironic as it may seem to Harry, his partner was quick behind the wounded Auror with her detached arm in hand.

Harry sat leaning to the side, absently staring, much like many of the uninjured Aurors that were filling the waiting room, at the hallway leading to the examination rooms. Any news that would be given from the Healer or their assistants would be coming from there before anywhere else.

Every once in what seemed like a very long while an assistant would come out to inform partners or rapidly arriving family on the condition of their patients. The Auror with the missing arm lucked out. Most of the pieces that were detached were present by the quick thinking of her partner; she'd not lose the use of her arm.

Two Auror's weren't so lucky. Harry grimaced at the screams of their family.

Three hours later, three of those that were able were discharged. They were grabbed up in the arms of those that loved them. The strain holding in the air since the first of the injured were admitted was tentatively broken.

Harry stood to make his way past the happy families and friends. He looked out the glass doors to the darkness outside. A quick chill crept up his spine from the feeling he had that dark times were once more upon the world and that he was again the focal point.

"Harry!" a familiar voice came from behind him.

He spun around seeing the grateful face of an old friend and one of the newest victims of the darkness.

"Susan," Harry smiled as she rushed up and into his free arm.

The blonde Hufflepuff he'd known back in school had changed since the last time he had seen her. The once long plaited blonde hair was now cut just below her shoulders, and Harry noticed that the clump that had been pulled out by the gunman had been neatly healed and grown back without a trace of what had happened at the flower shop.

After a suitable hug period she pulled back and Harry watched as her eyes pooled.

"Thank you for what you did," she sputtered. "I thought …"

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for Hannah."

Susan nodded and then looked down. "I don't think she knew what …," she started. "It happened so fast, and Hannah went for her wand."

He watched as her shoulders started shaking.

"I just stood there – and there was so much blood," she gasped out before throwing herself upon him once more.

Harry reached around and held her close. "It's not your fault, Susan."

It was like she didn't even hear him. "I should have … I should have …"

He leaned down close to her ear. "You did exactly what you should have done, Susan. Hannah wouldn't have wanted you to die too."

She choked another sob out.

"The bastard wanted me. Anyone that got in his way was …"

Her sobbing abruptly stopped. "Expendable?"

Harry sighed. "I was trying to think of a better way of putting it."

Susan pulled away wiping at her tears with the heel of her hands. "I used to go to work sometimes with my aunt Amelia. I'm familiar with the language Auror's use, Harry."

"I'm your friend. I'm not an Auror."

Her puffy red eyes looked at him in confusion. "I thought …" Realization dawned. "The bridge; you've been sacked."

He nodded in response.

"And here you are not even an Auror and you're still saving lives," she said with a bit of admiration.

Harry shrugged. "The Aurors would have …"

"HA!" she almost yelled. "I saw the television cameras, Harry. The Auror's would have done nothing." She spun around noticing and seethed for a moment before noting the people that were staring at her then she turned back. "You keep forgetting that I know Auror protocol, Harry. They would have done nothing for fear of exposing our world."

From what he had witnessed today Harry almost agreed with her. "We don't know that."

Susan brushed another tear away angrily. "Too many eyes, Harry. Before you got there the Muggles were all over. The camera's too focused. The only time anyone didn't see what happened was when you put that bastard on his ass and blew off his damned face!"

People around them flinched at that revelation and Harry put his arm around Susan. "I think we need to get out of here."

She turned around and glared at the staff and others that were staring. Standing her ground she grabbed his hand and held him still. "This is the hero. Look at him!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched.

"He does what's right! Not like that lot at the Ministry."

Harry pulled her once more. "Come on, Susan."

They turned to the door and Harry came up short, nausea again rose through his throat. He swallowed rather hard and his face settled into a revolted grimace. "Hello Rita."

"Harry," Rita replied. Her eyes sparkled and the smile Harry came to recognize in recent years as indicative of her desire to acquire a sensational story appeared on her face.

He pulled Susan along with him as he led with his good shoulder and pushed past the reporter. "Goodbye Rita."

Susan sneered at her and as they passed she reached out and snatched the green quill that was floating in the air scribbling on its accompanying notepad.

Cries of protest uttered by the reporter were felled by the outer door closing behind the couple as they exited the hospital. Harry looked left then right as he adjusted the collar of his coat to shield his neck from the near freezing temperature.

"Where are we going?" Susan inquired as she did the same.

Harry looked back at the blonde girl. "You're going home. I need to find out what happened to those Aurors."

Susan's face showed no sign of emotion. "And you are going to protect yourself how?" She pointed to his injured shoulder and arm still in its sling.

He waved it up in the air. "The arm's fine. I'm just supposed to rest it."

"Said the man who had a piece of metal drilled into his shoulder." She saw the argument forming on his lips and cut him off. "Besides, didn't the Auror's, in there, say anything?"

He shook his head. "Need to know, and as of yesterday I don't need to know."

Susan pondered the problem for a few seconds. "Ron's still in the program. Ask him." After a second pause she added. "He is still in the program, isn't he?"

Harry tilted his neck to the side and closed his eyes. "I kinda burned that bridge yesterday."

Her eyes intensified. "Harry, Ron's your best friend!"

He started walking down the street in a random direction. Susan matched him step for step waiting for an explanation. The sound of his shoes echoed against the walls of the building to their right and Harry eyed a passing car when he answered.

"Ron's been – well, he's been hanging around the other cadets at the academy too much. The things he talks about now …" He stopped and turned to Susan. "You know how Ron is; always wanting to be the center of attention. Even after all the praise he got after we beat Voldemort. It wasn't enough. It was like an addiction for him."

She eyed him once more letting him see the doubt in her face. "I'm sure it wasn't …"

"You weren't there. Last week he was bragging to anyone that would listen in the locker room that he was buggering Hermione." His face locked in disgust. "And that isn't the half of it."

He turned back to his walk. "It's been a long time coming, Susan. The only thing important to Ron right now is Ron."

She took a long breath and exhaled through her nose in regret. "Fine, who else then?"

He shrugged thoughtfully. "Well Hogsmead was a fiasco with Ginny. She actually had the gall to …"

"Not another Weasley tirade, Harry. I'm talking about people who could help you find out about the Aurors," she admonished him.

"Oh," a smiled sneaked from his lips. He shrugged again. "I guess I could try the Prime Minister. It was Muggle guns that did that to them."

She grinned thoughtfully and shook her head. "And, of course, you are friends with the Muggle higher-ups." She slipped her hand around the crook of his arm. "Only you, Harry Potter, only you."

With a returned smile he set his slung hand over hers. "Hang on tight. I'll have to side-along you."

With the increase in pressure on his arm they Disapparated.

0

Upon the arrival on the grounds of the chateau several people were startled, namely the hundred or so soldiers that were quickly bearing large automatic rifles at the two new visitors.

Susan screamed. Harry nearly went for his wand only to figure out in a split second that his wand was up his sleeve which was currently bound by a restricting sling.

"ON YOUR KNEES!" one of the soldiers yelled rather loudly.

Susan screamed again. She would have run except for the restraining hand had on hers.

"Do as they say, Susan," Harry said as calmly as he could under the circumstances.

They dropped where they were standing and were immediately set upon by a soldier apiece while others trained their large guns on the center of their bodies.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said in between gropes of his searchers. "The Prime Minister knows who I am."

"Call it in," a voice said from behind him.

Their wands were taken and they were kept on their knees until Harry heard one of the soldiers ask, "Who's the other one?"

"Susan Bones. She's my assistant." He waved his slung arm. "I was shot earlier today stopping one of your criminals. Maybe some of you saw it on the news?"

The owner of the voice made himself known as he stepped within their eyesight. "We don't normally sit around watching the telly, Potter."

"Fine, whatever," Harry said to the officer.

The officer was approached by one of his subordinates. "They've got the okay, sir."

"Right then," the officer replied. "Smythe, Harrison, escort these two to the PM."

Even with the permission of the Prime Minister they were held at moderate gunpoint the entire way to through the chateau; the barrels never lowered anymore than the height of their waistline. The feel of the chateau was definitely more intense than his previous visits. Something had happened and Harry felt the tension in the air like a fog.

After a brief wait outside the doors to the library they were allowed inside. The Prime Minister sat behind his desk as before except this time guards were stationed on either side of the door and the back corners of the library behind the desk area. They were led to the area in front of the desk and their wands were deposited in front of the PM.

"Mr. Potter," the PM said in a rather strained voice.

Harry nodded in greeting. "Sir."

The Prime Minister's eyes drifted to the blonde girl beside Harry.

"This is Susan Bones, my assistant for the evening."

The PM nodded. "I've word that you have been injured in an incident on The Broadway."

Harry shrugged, but Susan wouldn't let him get away with something so modest. "It was my life he saved, Mr. Prime Minister."

The PM's eyes darted back to Susan for a moment and then back to Harry.

"I've also received word through official channels that you bullied your way onto the scene with some cock and bull story about Her Majesty's Secret Service not to mention the dropping of my name."

If Harry's hands were free he would have shoved them in his pockets, instead he just shuffled his feet slightly. "Sorry about that. I had to get to Susan and Hannah."

An amused grin appeared on the PM's face. "Mr. Potter, it might behoove you learn that it's widely known the Her Majesty has no Service, secret or otherwise."

The tips of Harry's ears having already gone red from the report to the Prime Minister, but at the news of the fiction he had played off his face started to feel like it was flaming.

"It was the first thing to come to mind."

The PM relaxed and leaned back slightly in his chair. "Your fame from saving the survivors of the Connex bombing is what got you through the police line. Well that and I'm sure the officer in charge didn't know what to make of your … abilities." He reached into his desk and withdrew a slim leather wallet of sorts leaned forward and set it on the edge of his desk. "This might be of use in the future."

Susan released Harry's arm as he stepped forward and took up the wallet. Unfolding it he found a small badge on one side and a picture identification card on the other. A frown crossed his face at the picture then he relaxed as he recognized his jacket from earlier in the day. He realized his picture could have been taken at any number of cameras in the chateau.

"You are officially a security consultant to the Prime Minister. Unofficially, that identification will get you past most security, police, and military points."

Harry realized the significance of such a gift. "How … I mean why are you trusting me?"

The PM leaned forward and interlaced his fingers. "I'm a very good judge of character, Mr. Potter. I've surround myself with the very best people, and the success of my career is proof of my ability. Not to mention that even before we met you were putting the lives of innocents above the affairs of government and politics."

Susan stepped forward. "Forgive me, Prime Minister, but I'm somewhat familiar with law enforcement. The security background checks involved …"

"I'm quite aware of the requirements of that kind of clearance, Miss Bones," the PM stated. He reached to his side and pulled up a briefcase. Setting it on the desk he opened it and withdrew a very large file folder and let it drop to the side with a resounding _thunk_.

"Remember when I said I read your jacket, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"Well that's it."

Harry's eyes widened.

The PM set his briefcase to the floor and centered the file in front of him as he opened the first few pages.

"I'm sure I'm not releasing anything beyond comprehension when I say that we've followed your life very closely since your Lord Voldemort was dispatched in the early eighties." He paged though a few more sheets. "Nothing too intrusive, I'm sure. I mean we didn't interfere in your personal life, and the information we've received is from reliable sources vetted very thoroughly."

Susan and Harry stood there listening intently. Harry worried exactly what was in the file.

"Here we go," said the PM looking like he found what he was looking for. "Age One: defeated Lord Voldemort. Circumstances unknown. Age Eleven: prevented the aforementioned Lord Voldemort, spirit form, from accessing mystical stone capable of granting eternal life. Age Twelve: Killed mystical fifty-foot snake armed only with a sword."

Susan turned her head and looked at the uncomfortable feeling his face was betraying. "What snake?"

Harry swallowed. "Basilisk, Chamber of Secrets, second year."

"A Basilisk!" she said unbelieving. "Are you insane?"

Harry took a seat and rubbed his hands over his face. "Voldemort had Ginny down in the Chamber. I couldn't let her die. I was the only one …"

"What's a Basilisk?" the PM asked with extreme curiosity.

Susan whipped around. "It's a great bloody snake that can kill you with just a look not to mention the fangs, the poison, the speed. It's not just long. These things can ...," she looked around at the size of the library. "Oh, I'd say this room would be big enough for a nice bedroom for the thing."

"Hmm," commented the PM. "Anyway, Age Fourteen: fought battle against aforementioned Lord Voldemort, newly embodied, and fifteen of his cult."

Susan sat down with that one.

"After being tortured and fighting said battle he returned with one civilian." The PM looked up. "Not in the habit of leaving men behind."

Harry held back a comment about Fleur not being anywhere in the realm of being considered _men_-like.

Without further comment the PM continued. "Age Fifteen: Led attack on Ministry of Magic again battled aforementioned Lord Voldemort and twelve members of his cult."

Susan lifted her hand and covered her mouth to keep from saying anything else. She could see the look on Harry's face and conflicted was something that might best describe his demeanor.

"Seventeen: Infiltrated and led battle at Hogwarts School defeating the whole of aforementioned Lord Voldemort's Cult and killing Voldemort."

The PM let that sit for a moment. "Since then you've been attending the Auror Academy." He leaned back in his chair. "Sounds like someone that could be relied upon to do the right thing."

Harry finally looked back up. His gaze stayed on the PM for a few seconds and drifted to the contemplative face of Susan. The silence stood only for as long as the sound of chair leather stretching broke the lack of conversation.

"What happened this afternoon?" Harry asked.

The PM thumbed the side of his lips and then laced his fingers together in his lap. "We've had the visitor's entrance of the Ministry of Magic under surveillance since the Connex bombing. The team's cover was broken and they were confronted by two Obliviators."

Harry slowly blinked as his imagination ran wild.

"We had them in custody and in route to holding when the escort was ambushed by several Magicals." The somber face of the PM held for a moment. "There were losses on both sides. We retained the prisoner for prosecution."

"There were two losses on the Wizard's side," Harry stated matter-of-factly.

The PM right eye twitched slightly. "My sources at the scene assured me that several Magicals received critical and fatal wounds."

Harry nodded. "And I watched as all the rest of them came into the hospital and walked out three hours later all nice and healed."

"How?" the PM asked in astonishment.

"Magic," replied Susan. "Harry?"

The PM watched as Harry disentangled himself from his sling. "I was shot in the shoulder today." He slid out of his jacket and handed it to Susan and then unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it over the previously injured shoulder. What he revealed was moderately tan skin with a patch of fresh pink skin roughly in the shape one would expect a bullet wound would be.

"By tomorrow you won't even see a scar," he ended as he slid his shirt back and redid the buttons. "One of the Auror's that was shot lost her arm, but it was reattached. She'll probably be out for the week, but she'll be back, good as new, soon after."

Susan handed his jacket back and he slid it on with only a slight wince when he pulled his right arm back. Stepping forward he retrieved his wand and handed Susan hers.

"I'm asking you, Mister Prime Minister. Pull all of your men back and let the Wizarding world alone." Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets he let the weariness of his day show. "I've seen it before: an incident here, a skirmish there, before you know it, people you don't know are dying, and then its people you know."

The PM stood and bristled. "We didn't start this, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded. "I know. But be the bigger man, Mister Prime Minister, end it." He held out his hand to Susan and she slipped her own around his forearm. Grasping tightly they Disapparated away.

0

They appeared at an indeterminate hillside in the middle of nowhere. Harry inhaled a lungful of fresh air and released with it along with some of the tension he was feeling.

"Are you alright to see yourself home?" he asked Susan.

She caught herself in mid nod. "Where are you going?"

"Home," he answered. "To bed … well maybe a nice long soak and then bed."

She turned her head slightly looking over the countryside. "Got an extra room?"

At his inquiring look she continued. "Hannah and I shared a flat. I really don't want to go back there just yet."

Without even thinking he nodded. "Grab on."

0

The next morning he walked into the kitchen finding Susan looking at the coffee maker with frustration.

"Morning," Harry grumbled. "Problems?"

"I've taken Muggle Studies," she almost growled. "I know this machine is supposed to make coffee, but the only thing it does when I push this button is get hot."

An amused grin rose on Harry's face. "It's a process," he explained as he neared. "First you take this paper thing here. It's called a filter; it strains out the grounds. You pop it in here and put three scoops of grounds in it."

She took the proffered can and scooped out the coffee into the filter. Harry grabbed the carafe and leaned over the sink. "Next, you fill up the pot with water, and pour it in the top." He pointed at the lid which she opened and allowed Harry to do his business.

"Now press the button."

After Susan followed the directions she smiled brightly and waited for a few seconds. "Where's the coffee?"

Harry turned around and strode to the refrigerator. "Takes about ten minutes. In the mean time we make breakfast." He looked inside and turned his head back. "Eggs and toast okay?"

At her nod he pulled out a few eggs and set them by the stove. "It's about all I'm good at. I can make bacon too but I'm out."

She caught sight of the interior of the nearly bare refrigerator. "Eat out a lot?"

He smiled slightly showing just a hint of teeth. "I've been busy lately."

Susan backed against the counter and pushed herself atop to watch Harry crack the eggs and put several pieces of bread in the toaster.

"Is there a reason you don't use magic here?"

Harry looked over his shoulder as he was stirring the eggs with a spatula. "I do use magic. I just don't overdo it." Turning back he continued. "I like electricity, and most of the stuff I do the Muggle way will only save a few seconds or at the most a minute or two if I do it with magic." He shrugged. "Then there's the not really being any good with the household magic stuff."

Susan giggled. "So give you a Death Eater to blast and you're Merlin's long lost son, but folding shirts is a challenge?"

"Something like that," he replied.

Looking around the kitchen she spotted a small television in the corner. "Do you mind if I …"

He looked to where she was pointing and gave a grimace in return. "I'll warn you ahead of time. Every time I turn it on something happens and I have to leave."

Susan crooked an eyebrow at him and said teasingly, "Well maybe the curse will be broken if I turn it on."

Harry shrugged in response. The smell of scrambling eggs filled the room as he kept an ear out for the voice of the newscaster being cut off as Susan scanned through the channels. Harry continued with the eggs and waited until they solidified enough to form something eatable. He turned off the stove at the same time the toast popped up and coincidently Susan found a suitable channel.

Setting the table with various amenities Harry dropped off the toast and eggs, and then poured the juice.

Their meal went fairly uneventful with both of them watching the vaguely interesting cooking show that Susan had thought would be innocent enough. All hope for a peaceful day was set to the wayside as the cursed cooking show was interrupted by a special report.

Grey smoke was seen rising into the area above the female reporter's left shoulder. "The military has cordoned off a kilometer of the area surrounding the west end of the Strand south of Covent Garden for what reason we, as of yet, do not know. Any people still in the containment area have been ordered to stay in their homes and keep their doors and windows closed."

Susan looked to her left where Harry was seated and saw him in mid bite. His mouth was slack and the last of his eggs fell off the fork. His eyes found hers.

"The Ministry," he concluded.

He dropped his fork and dashed to his room where he grabbed his jacket and swung it out as he slid his arms inside. He found his boots, jammed his feet inside, and slapped the claps closed. When he looked up Susan was there with a determined look in her eye.

"I'm going too."

Harry looked around his room and found his wand on the nightstand. "I don't have time for this, Susan. Anything could have happened."

"Exactly. That's why you need someone to watch your back," she said resolutely.

Harry gave it a second's thought. "Fine, stay behind me at all times and keep your shield up until we're sure it's safe."

She nodded as she watched Harry turn around. "Grab on."

Susan, with her wand in her right hand, grasped his shoulders tightly.

0

Harry concentrated on the Fountain of Magical Brethren and the wall that was closest to it putting him in the middle of the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. What he found when he Apparated into the smoke filled area wasn't exactly what he expected.

Gunfire deafened him. The smoke burned his eyes. His lungs tightened and it felt like he was going to lose his breakfast. Without a second thought he used a Bubblehead Charm. A quick glance over his shoulder and he saw Susan had thought along the same lines. Her eyes were red and he saw mucus running down her face much like his own.

An explosion sounded, and what felt like the entirety of the Ministry shook.

"Merlin, what the hell are they doing?" he said to himself.

He held his wand in the air and ran it in wide circles. "Air Clearing Charm!"

Susan nodded and acted in tandem. An ever increasing arc around them began clearing until soldiers wearing gas masks and baring large caliber automatic rifles started to appear. Three of them turned on Harry and Susan.

"Crap," Harry. He brought his wand across the front of his body and dropped a Shield Charm in place. A second later armor-piercing slugs came to a halt and dropped in place a foot from their intended target.

"Stay behind me and summon their masks," he called out to Susan.

"Accio!"

The closest soldier tripped and fell forward led by a strong pull on his gas mask.

"Okay -- that didn't work," spit Harry as he was becoming increasingly frustrated.

More small arms fire was directed in their direction as the air around them was becoming diffuse with more of the noxious gas.

"Screw this," yelled Harry above the gunfire. "Shield us, Susan."

At the sound of his partner's voice Harry thrust his wand forward shooting a Concussion Hex knocking five of the soldiers off their feet. A slash to his right and a Banishment Charm tossed a single soldier into the line of fire of two of his own men resulting in the riddling of the soldier's body with their spent ammunition.

An explosion down by the elevators shook the atrium. Glass rained from above.

"I can't hold it, Harry!" Susan's called out.

He reached back and grabbed her arm, Disapparating before her shield failed. They reappeared in the middle of Auror headquarters amid chaos. Everyone who was anyone seemed to have the same idea as Harry: get where the strongest fighters are. Except in this instance all the strongest fighters seem to be somewhere else, probably the atrium.

Harry pushed his way through the screaming and yelling of various Ministry employees toward the elevators where two Aurors stood guard. Luckily, Harry knew one of them.

"Mires, where's all the rest of the Aurors?"

The stout Auror grimaced. "Atrium."

A strong tremor shook the building and the sound of another explosion sounded from the elevator shaft.

Harry's eyes widened at the thought of what just happened. "I don't think they're there anymore."

Two cracks of apparition sounded and four men dressed in Auror's robes dropped to the floor blackened from battle. The elevator guards rushed forward.

"Kelley, what happened," Mires asked in almost a panic.

Kelley shrugged out of his smoking robes. "They're dead." He gasped. "The Muggles used some kind of blasting charm. There was fire everywhere. If anyone from the team made it then they Apparated somewhere else." He seemed to pause for dramatic effect. "Nothing could have survived that."

Harry's face set and he turned to Susan. "Evacuate the building. I don't care what it takes."

"Everyone's already gone," Mires said. "This is it." He waved his hand back at the twenty some odd people. "Unlicensed for Apparition, Squibs, and whatever. It's SOP in case the Ministry comes under attack."

"You got about ten minutes to get them out of here before it might not be safe," Harry said with conviction.

Mires grabbed him by the shoulder. "What are you going to do?"

Harry smiled slightly. "I'm gonna keep our visitors busy."

0

As the two Auror's and Susan side-along Apparated the rest of the people to safety Harry worked on the Elevator door. After trying the call button with no results he blasted the doors apart and peered down the shaft to the darkness below. The Auror squad being on the third floor and the Atrium on the eighth posed a small problem with logistics in terms of an offensive attack.

Another small rumble of an explosive being detonated sent a low echo up the shaft.

"What are they doing down there?" Harry said to himself.

He looked back at the remaining people waiting for their exodus from Muggle attack and then once more into the shaft. This time he saw light from below. A low popping sound followed by a metal _thunk_ replayed itself several times as Harry's nerves were getting the better of him. Then he noticed several shadows moving.

"Crap."

He turned and looked around the room. Several cubicles took up most of the space and large wooden desks were inside each cubicle. A grim smile took to his face.

"Hey!" he yelled down the shaft.

From what he could perceive all movement stopped.

"I wouldn't be in this lift shaft if I were …"

He didn't even get a chance to finish his warning before gunfire riddled the area inside.

"Fine," he spat as he raised his wand in the direction of the cubicles. "They want to play it that way?"

A liberal use of summoning and banishing charms later and Harry dropped half of the office atop the heads of the soldiers that were making their way up the shaft.

Taking advantage of the only turn in his favor, Harry reapplied the Bubblehead Charm and Apparated to the far end of the Atrium well away from the cluster of lifts. A second's worth of reconnoiter found the area still filled with noxious gas. He took aim at where he remembered the lift and let loose a blasting hex then Disapparated.

Reappearing where he originally came in he released another Blasting Hex. Disapparating again he jumped to the opposite side and mirrored his previous two actions.

_With any luck, _he thought.

He threw up a Shield Charm and cringed at the loud report of the automatic weapons sweeping the area. He Disapparated once more and reappeared at Auror Headquarters.

Mires and Susan were the only ones left and they both seem to be waiting for him.

"Everyone out?" Harry said in an echoed voice through the fishbowl like charm still hovering around his head.

They both nodded and Mires stepped forward. "We can't leave the Ministry for them. The statutes …"

Harry ended the Bubblehead Charm and nodded in agreement. "Suggestions?"

Mires turned around and looked at what remained of the office and then back to Harry. "Burn it."

Harry's eyes darted to Susan and saw hers widen. He turned and stepped quickly to the lift shaft. He still heard a smattering of gunfire from below. He glanced upward and took into account the departments on each floor knowing that the quickest way to destroy the whole thing was also the most dangerous.

He looked back. "Meet me across the street on the roof of the building."

Susan nodded and Disapparated.

"Can you handle this?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I've always been good at destroying things."

A grim look fell over Mires face. "See you there."

When Mires was gone Harry turned back to the lift shaft and pointed his wand downward. "FIENDFYRE!"

A jet of preternaturally animated fire spiraled down the shaft. Panicked yells from below sounded. Harry hoped that the remaining soldiers left in the Atrium would make it out before the ninth level of the Ministry of Magic was destroyed.

0

There was a cold breeze rushing by atop the Fennings building across the street from the Ministry of Magic. The London sky was overcast, which didn't bode well for the afternoon weather. However this was the least of the observations of Harry Potter as he appeared on the roof to witness the fall of the Ministry building.

In what was Harry thought was starting to become a trend he stared down the barrels of several automatic weapons.

Susan was on her knees only scant feet away with her hands on her head with her fingers interlaced.

"Crap."


End file.
